From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
The mind is like a bright pearl. If obstructed by material desires, it is like a pearl covered with mud and sand. But if clasped by passions, it is like a pearl adorned with silver and gold. Accordingly, a scholar is afraid not of an unclean malady, but of the difficult cure of a clean malady; and he fears not a barrier in events, but the difficult removal of a barrier in principles.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
Insects in the autumn, like birds in the spring, cherish their nature. Why should one thoughtlessly be happy or sad? Old trees, like new flowers, sustain their vitality. Why should one recklessly distinguish between beauty and ugliness?
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
Suddenly gazing at the colorful clouds above the horizon, one wonders if all good things are not inane. Often-times beholding the idle trees in the mountains, one believes that a man of leisure is happy.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
Sitting by a teapoy in a room bathed with pure breezes and moonbeams, one can read the mind of Heaven in every thing. Walking along a running brook in the clouded mountain, one can observe the mysteries of the Tao in every moment.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
While soaring in the sky and over the earth, a roc felt that its journey was narrow and short. While perching on an old pine, shrouded by a cloud, a crane knows that its dream is serene and leisurely.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
Straying from Enlightenment, a man finds a happy land to be a sea of suffering, as water is frozen into ice; but awakening to Enlightenment, he discovers a sea of suffering to be a happy land, as ice is melted into water. Hence, we know that suffering and happiness are not two different moods and that straying from, and awakening to, Enlightenment are not two different frames of mind.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
The attitude of people towards me may be warm or cold, but I respond neither gladly nor resentfully; the tastes of the world may be savory or insipid, but I react neither happily nor disgustedly. If one does not fall into the trap of the mundane, one knows the ways of living in, and escaping from, the world.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
When there is no commotion and agitation in a man’s mind, he finds every place as peaceful as a verdant hill or a green tree. When there are transforming and nurturing powers in his nature, he discovers every thing as lively as a leaping fish or a flying hawk.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
In every human heart, there is a Book of Truth, bound with worn-out strings and torn bamboo-papers. In every human heart, there is also a Symphony of Nature, drowned out by sensual song and voluptuous dance. A man must sweep away all externals and search his inner being in order to experience joy.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
The green bamboo, withstanding frigid frost, appreciates its integrity, yet its self-appreciation does not spoil its elegance. The crimson lotus, dallying with autumnal water, is gorgeous in its color, yet its gorgeousness does not injure its purity.
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
When a man does not establish himself on a high plane, it is like brushing clothes in the dust or washing feet in the mud. How can he then be transcendent? And when he deals with the world without yielding a step, it is like a moth flying into a candle or a ram butting against a hedgerow. How can he then be happy?
From A Chinese Garden of Serenity (1959), by Hung Tzu-ch’eng, translated by Chao Tze-chiang:
To appreciate one does not need to look afar; to be inspired one does not need to have much. In a little jagged stone or small basin, a man may visualize the grandeur of mountains or rivers ten thousand miles long; in a word or sentence of the ancient sages or worthies, he may read their minds. If so, he has the vision of the noble and the mind of the wise.